


Mandalorian Endurance

by MixedWords



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Banter, Din Djarin/female OC, Din learns from experienced woman, F/M, Learning the way, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, POV Din Djarin, POV Male Character, Shameless Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, Young Din Djarin, armour stays on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:02:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27574901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MixedWords/pseuds/MixedWords
Summary: A Greenhorn Din finds he has many other things to learn in this galaxy.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Mandalorian Endurance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sweatandwoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweatandwoe/gifts).



> I wanted to focus on a Younger Din, someone who's likely still in his early twenties if not late teens. As of such there will be some differences, more proud filled and confident yet uneasy. Of course, I'm always looking for feedback. I don't generally do fanfictions preferring my own characters in a AU and I'm wanting to be able to capture a character better!
> 
> Anyway, I did this as a two-hour writing exercise for my girlfriend, she loves this tinman. 
> 
> If I catch anything glaringly bad since this isn't beta-read and just some good fun, I'll edit.

“Kandosii!” The man before me cheers. Already I have forgotten his name, and the desire to know it had significantly diminished. A smile upon his lips as he heaves a mug into the air in celebration. Beneath my headpiece, my eyes narrow, and the urge to punch the ignorant in the floppy folds of his neck was draining my patience. Could he not see me smelling like rot? My armour coated in filth from the remains of the beast that he failed to warn me about? Bastard, I could smell the grime through my helmet.

“You failed to mention the insect scuttering about in the cave,” though my voice was calm, the anger was there. I hated spiders, disgusting creatures. My displeasure caused my acquaintance to fidget. Whatever smirk was upon those thick gluttonous lips had melted. 

“You’re a Mandalorian; I thought your kind was more than ready to handle a few bugs.” His words cut deep, he was right. My kind, my tribe, they were more than ready to handle anything, and it was my duty to my brethren - my family - to prove myself. I was still a youngling, only a decade and more from my finding. From that day, I had promised myself to make my family proud. No insect was going to shame me. I would not be goaded or mocked by this waste of space. I dragged my hand across my armour, feeling the filth and catching a good chunk of the slime and carapace before flicking it in his direction. He was quick to move, his body scrambling back on the stool. His drink spilt everywhere to my satisfaction.

“You’re right,” I said. “Payment now.” I wanted away from this place and in the comforts of a bath. The chance to clean away the grime from my armour would do me well. It would not do to let the carrion linger, to let it stain what mattered to me most. 

“U-uncalled for!” He yammered, he was wiping away the grime that had splattered his clothes. I stopped him with a raise of the hand before he could continue his protest of ruined garments. Slowly and deliberately, I pointed at the table, tapping it once and then twice. 

“Payment,” I drew my words out.

“Fine, fine… here.” The collection of credits he placed on the table was a mixture of silver, gold and blue. What gave me pause was the Imperial credits. 

“These,” I held the credit between my two fingers, “Do not spend.” 

“They spend fine, and you can even use them here. This place uses them.” The man nodded towards the bar. I said nothing. Instead, I simply pushed the credits into my satchel and moved towards the barkeeper.

…

My ship was too far away to collect, and the urgency regarding my predicament caused desperate measures. The man had been right; this place did indeed accept Imperial credits. Why? I did not know; I did not care to know. All I knew was that after tonight I would return to my ship and take on another job. My family, my tribe - needed every credit. Our survival depended heavily on our ability to adapt and survive, that requires credits. 

I could still hear the music below from the cantina, but I remained aware of my surroundings as I cleaned away at my armour, my pride. The dirt from the beasts hadn’t done as much damage as I thought. The small kit I carried allowed for easy repairs of wiring and melding of metal that had been rendered by the beast's heavy claws. Thankfully there was no sticky silk gunking up the underwear. The idea of it made me shiver in disgust. In the future, I would be sure to use flame on them as blaster fire was problematic when the cretins moved with such speed. I was proud of my survival. I was one step towards being respected and feared.

A knock at the door has me glaring upon it. I wasn’t expecting any company, and though the gluttonous brute below knew I was here, our interaction was complete. The job done, he had the pock, and I had the credits. “But when has that ever stopped these two-bit crime lords reneging on a contract?” I muttered quietly to myself. I cast a sad eye at my food as I stood up and replaced my helmet upon my head; it clicked as it secured itself. 

“Moment.” I unholstered my blaster, feeling the trigger against my fingertip as I moved towards the door and positioned myself in such a way that I could defend as well as attack. Be aware, be ready - to be ill-prepared means death. How many times had my battle master hammered this into my head? And for a good reason, these words have saved my life. 

“Who is it?” I didn’t open the door; instead, I waited for the response and steeled myself for an attack. 

“I, you don’t know me, but Calevic sent me.” A woman’s voice. Luscious and alluring. By hearing it, I would think she was harmless, but I knew better. Innocence was easy to fake in these times. No, the only thing that was of slight concern was the name Calevic, the name of the man I had forgotten - the name of the man whose business I had just concluded. 

“Why?” Still, I didn’t open the door. I was wary. 

“He sent me to entertain you. An apology.” I squinted, my brow furrowing at her response. Entertainment? As in sex? I had to stifle a laugh. 

“I don’t need entertainment.” While I wasn’t against the idea of sex, the idea of doing it here and outside of the comfort of my ship made me anxious. I trusted no one here.

“Is that so, Mandalorian?” This woman’s voice took on an even sweeter tone. I've heard it before, the sound of seduction. It worked on many, had the credits slip from your hands and into theirs. 

“It’s so.” I moved to walk away from the door, but a particular sound made me stop and pause.

“Am I perhaps too much for you to handle, Mando? Is there not a man behind all that armour.” Click, click, click…what was that? I halted and frowned. A weapon being prepared? A trap? I didn’t respond to her teasing, but I did move back towards the door. The peephole, I took a gamble to look upon it and eye what laid beyond. A woman, beautiful beyond means was behind the door. Dark eyes, long hair and tan skin - yet it was the curves that made me falter. The clicking sound from before? Her shirt, she had undone the buttons, or something of a more extreme of matters pulled the shirt apart.

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m very good at my job, Mandalorian. And I know you’re good at yours.” I shook my head in disbelief, honestly unsure on just what was going on. This ladies determination to seduce was impressive and yet mildly concerning. Why try so hard? 

A sound like a sigh came from behind the door and while against my better judgement, I looked. Elegant hands moved across her trim frame, feeling every curve that she had to suggest. It was alarming, to say the least, and yet there was no hiding the fact this was enjoyable. 

“From professional to professional, why don’t you let me do my job? If you’re not pleased, I can always leave. And if you are, well, I get paid.”

So that’s how it was. The cheap bastard wouldn’t pay her unless she fulfilled her task. Not surprising in the backwaters of the outer rim, and certainly not for whatever his name was. But if she wanted in, then I needed to assure my safety.

“Drop everything on the floor. You bring nothing in.” I hardly expected her to conform. Yet I watched her as every strip of clothing was removed and left to pool at her feet. Her eyes, those warm yet determined eyes, met mine in the peephole. She surely couldn’t see me, but she knew I was there. 

“Shall I twirl for you Mandalorian?” Her voice was so gentle. I didn’t answer, and she didn’t need my approval. Coyly she smiled as she twirled, her hair fanning out as she did. “Nothing but me, and all I can give you, Mandalorian.”

...

  
  


“What’s your name?” I was still very much alert with this woman in my room. Her eyes hadn’t left me. Instead, she seemed determined to drink in the sight. Weighing me up, seeing how much I could give and how much she’d have to put out for her pay.

“Names mean nothing, Mando. You don’t need to know mine, and I don’t need to know yours.” I grunted at that, setting myself down on the bed, my hand still so close to my blaster and ready to retaliate if need be. Though she was naked, I still felt on edge. Her body was toned and strong, a body like that could easily have been honed to fight. She edged closer to me, moving down gracefully to put a hand on my thigh, she leaned over as she did to look at me in the visor. “I want to test your endurance, and I want to see if you Mandalorian’s are worth the hype and tales my old nan used to speak of.”

“Old fisherman wives usually hype old tales,” was my response. 

“Then you’re hype?” She responded, her hand wandering upwards as if playing with me, she made her fingers walk. 

“I’m reality.” She smiled when I said that, a good smile. It was easy to see that this woman was good at her duty; she wielded her body well. I respected that.

“In your tongue, Mandalorian, what do you call someone you lust for? What do you cry out when your passions are hot and can’t help but moan?” Her hand found what she desired, my inner thigh, the near unprotected groin. There was no denying the effect she had upon me. 

“ _ Cyar'ika”  _ I managed to say, my breath halting as I felt her rub at my thigh as if coaching my manhood to awaken.

“You will be calling me this by the end of the night, Mandalorian. Remember this.” I believed her. 

She went from her leaning position to kneel between my legs. She kept eye contact though she couldn’t see my gaze as I looked down upon her. Elegant hands that I imagined to be soft and light moved down up my thighs again until they met in the middle. Only for a moment did she look away, her head tilted to reveal a long elegant neck as hair flowed to the side. She was eying my armour, looking at the interlaces and how it worked. 

“The armour is like the tales of old,” she whispered, her fingers running gently across the buckle. “So many battles this has been through, but is that the same for you?” Her fingers hit the hook which responded in kind to her touch as did the zipper of the under armour as she pulled it free. A soft hum escaped her throat as she groped at that area; she could feel my length responding to her touch hardening with each movement her hand made.

“Don’t make me fire back the question.” I didn’t take her playing with me well. Yes, I was young. But my age did not matter. My family may think me a greenhorn, but with each day, I became wiser and stronger. This beauty, though, instead of displeasure, she simply laughed. Her chortle was song-like, a beautiful tune.

“I’ve had many, and I’ve learned much. I’m going to show you what I’ve learned, Mandalorian.” She purred out the last word, let it roll off her tongue like it was the sweetest thing in her vocabulary. I think it gave her pleasure, some sort of power.

She finally released my length; there was a sigh of relief from me. The restriction had been maddening, but it was nothing compared to the anticipation. Her lips were so thick, and the way her tongue ran across them made them glisten. To have them wrapped around my manhood would give me pleasant dreams for months to come. 

My partner for the evening seemed pleased. A twinkle in her eye as she held my member in her hands. I was well endowed, this I knew from previous dalliances. By the way she smirked at me, it seemed she was impressed. “This is also like the tales. Powerful warriors with such endurance. Hung like rancors.” I didn’t chuckle; I didn’t have time to. She gave me no mercy, as she wrapped her lips around the head of my cock and sucked upon it deeply. My body clenched at the sudden pleasure. Her eyes were still upon me as she took more of my member, suckling upon it as her hands ran up and down. She was good, the way her tongue danced around the head and dragged across my most tender of parts. That look on her face, she was enjoying herself—each loud slurp as she continued to bob her head on my length, taking it all in.

“Ah…” Good, very good. It took so much willpower not to vocalise my pleasure. She’d not win, not so soon. My companion pulled my cock out of her mouth, a long trail of spittle trickled from her lips as she did so.

“You can give in, Mandalorian. I want you to hear you cry. Call me your word, call me your  _ cyar'ika.”  _ Her hands continued to run up and down my manhood, working it in such a way that I would miss her touch when everything was said and done. The more she worked, the more I wanted to play along - to give her what she so desired. 

“No,” I breathed. There would be no giving in, but instead a battle; to learn to become a better person in all things. I would not give in, that was not the way, but I’d soon show her my way. 

“Good, my Mandalorian. Endurance is key. I need you to show me.” I should have been more aware of her words, but I couldn’t bring myself to think. Only the basics remained embedded, the memories of my blaster so close to me, just within reach. I hoped she didn’t make me use it, for this lesson she was teaching was one that I desired to last. 

Warm eyes again locked onto me as she dragged her tongue across my shaft; it was akin to worship the way she handled my manhood. There was no playing or clumsy movement that was akin to those lacking experience; she knew what to do and when to do it. Such sounds, she managed to drag from me, how my body tensed with each long slurp on my shaft or the deep throating as she took every last inch into her hot mouth. Again she drew back; both hands continued to pump at what I had to offer, her breasts touched upon it - her nipples had hardened by the contact.

“Your armour,” the brunette gestures towards it as she finally moves one hand away from my member. 

“It stays on.”

“The helmet as well?” An incline of the head was my answer. I would not reveal myself, but I would give her something for which I found to be an acceptable compromise as well as fitting with my religion. I wanted to learn, to fully understand how a woman ticked and what drove their bodies mad. I undid the gauntlets on my hand one by one and removed the protective gloves to reveal my hands. They were hard hands compared to her soft; the light scar tissue was in contrast with the tan of my skin.

“Ah, yes. The hands are important, perhaps even necessary when your lover can’t see your face,” my teacher purred. “What will you do with your hands, hunter?” For a moment, I thought about it. What to touch first, what to feel as she continued to give sweet attention to my cock. I couldn’t think, I moved by instinct as I reached out and ran a hand through her curls, and pushed any stray strands that covered her beautiful face. She seemed surprised by my movements, looking at me with big honey eyes framed by long lashes. “Do you think I’m beautiful, Mando?” She asked slowly, her attention on my member had stopped, her hands rested on my thighs now as she awaited my response. 

“Yes.” I had no qualms in admitting that she was my type. It felt so good to feel another again. My right hand felt at her face, moving to cup at her delicate chin and the inviting lips just above it. Full lips, lips that were still wet and ready after suckling upon my arousal. My cock pulsed at the thought of it, twitching as it stood to attention. She noticed this, a grin growing beneath my finger before her tongue ran across the digit, twirling around it before taking it into her mouth. Her warmth was wasted upon it, how I desired nothing more than to feel her heat on my manhood again.

A pop like sound filled the room as she pulled free and left my finger with her wetness. My prey stood to her full height and placed a hand flat on my chest place. I felt the force behind the push and knew what she wanted of me. Still aware of the blaster rifle on the bed, I moved further back, before resting on my elbows. This pleased her as she watched my cock continue to stand stall. Hands moved across her perfect figure, teasing me with the sight of her breasts and what lay below her trim stomach. She had such curves, such elegance. When she felt at her secret heat, I shuddered in anticipation. “See, Mandalorian? I knew you would enjoy me, just like I will enjoy you.” 

She straddled me and settled herself down on my lap. In a moment of shame, I felt my body betray me as it tensed in excitement. I knew this woman could ride a man like a beast not yet broken. That was evident enough in those toned muscles and the confidence that she gave. Yet she didn’t sink on me. Instead, she tilted her head at me as she applied pressure on the shaft. Her body rocked the friction of her movements, causing me to curse in mando’a as her heat caressed me, feeling me, wetting me. My teacher swayed, and she rocked, the constant motion as her entrance just so close to my cock. 

“Ah, yes…” She was moaning, whimpering as her hips continued to buck as her clit rubbed at my shaft. I loved those sounds; I wanted more of them. Though I could have let her work and watched the sight of her, I needed more. 

“This is good?” I asked, my hand went to her clit. Our immediate joining was already glistening in her juices as she felt at my length. When I brought my thumb to the nub and began to rub rather vigorously, she tensed and let out the loudest cry yet. Yes, this is what I wanted. A smile grew on my lips, one of pride as I played with her clit and rubbed away as she whimpered and jerked. 

“Mando…” Her words were soft and laboured, just before I had seen her shake and tense. The wetness that now was on my cock was considerable. She had climaxed already, but I had not. I wanted my fill, the desire that she had awoken within me.

“ _ Cyar'ika,”  _ I called her what she desired, my master for this lesson had earned it. Her expression was unknown to me, but she seemed shy? As if my words had an effect on her that went beyond the simple praise that I had expected. But it mattered not. I wanted to show her my way, to prove my endurance - I wanted to climax, I wanted to fill my  _ cyar'ika.  _

I sat up. The closer I was, the easier it was to hear her panting of breath. Her climax had taken a lot out of her. It left her sensitive but also ready for what I had to offer. Both hands went to her backside, feeling the toned muscle there of her lovely curves. I lifted her, keeping her weight off of her legs. Up and up, until my member slipped underneath, I felt it catch at her entrance, felt the wet soaking heat that was there. 

“Yes, this... “ She whispered, her eyes fluttering. “Do it.” I began to lower her, feeling the tip press against her slit before finally pushing inside. The head of my arousal sank inside of her, and I shuddered in pleasure, as did she. But more, I wanted more. I continued to lower her onto what I had to give. Every thick inch sank deeper into her tightness until I had filled her. We both shared a moan there, enjoying one another. Yet this was not the time to stop. I raised her back up, having my cock drag out of her quim halfway before letting her sink back onto it. Again and again, until I found a tempo.

The bed started to groan beneath us, the shaking as I continued to mate this woman, my  _ cyar'ika  _ for the night. She had moved her legs to wrap around me, the balls of her feet now settling near my backside. As time passed, she didn’t need me to raise her, my cock remained deep inside, and my hands simply helped her rock. Hard, jagged movements, so deep, so very deep. Soon, so very soon. 

“ _ Cyar'ika,”  _ I let the words slip away from me as I continued that hard pace, meeting her movements again and again until we finally moaned out in unison. We both shook, groaned, my all tension from my body left me as I filled her with my seed. 

“You…you will do,” my lover panted. Her body rested against my own as she caught her much needed breath. I didn’t understand her words, and as of such, I said nothing except enjoy the afterglow. “The stories were right… and I was right,” she chuckled.

“Hm?” The tug of tiredness was starting to pull at my resolve. I had been awake for over twenty-four hours, and our session had been a conclusive test of my growing stamina.

“I said ‘you will do’. My Mandalorian.” Again I cocked my head, confusion there which she found amusing even in her spent state of mind. 

“You don’t work for the Fatman, do you?” I questioned. She shook her head and kissed at my helmet, almost tenderly. I wished I could feel that touch. 

“No, I want you to kill him.” 

“So this was an actual test of my endurance?”

“A lesson you had to learn.”

“ _ Cyar'ika _ , you are not wrong.”

“So will you take the job?” She asks, still, she remains limp in my arms, and I know that our joining has started to leak the bounty of our joining, a complicated mess. I don’t answer; instead, I summon that strength within to raise her free from our coupling and put her at my side. She lays there on her stomach, her gaze like honey upon me. Her legs are spread, her quim on show revealing the tell-tale signs of my essence leaking from her tightness. Again my manhood twitches, the softness from before becoming hard as blood flows freely. 

“You can give me the specifics,” I say slowly, my voice like a purr as my hands caress her backside “But first, I want to show you my way.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
